Izuku Ya'broker
by ilanitaliaXD
Summary: Perhaps you should actually listen to the news every once in a while, so you wouldn't end up in these kinds of situations. What kinds of situations? Glad you asked. Sadly, I can only say that: Dont be Izuku. Unless you want to nearly die and never see your house again. If you do... well, don't let me stop you! :3c (A/n: giran is one of the main characters but no option in the list)
1. The prologue of izuku's warning

**The Prologue Where Izuku Was Warned Not To Wander Off**

" _—Seventeen children from the ages of nine to twelve had been found dead days after their reported disappearance. We ask parents to not let their children out after dark until the killer has been captured—_ "

Large green eyes stared at the computer screen, the pop up news taking over the All Might video he had been watching.

" _—known to resemble a Rokurokubi. So if you see anyone with a stretching neck and doll-like face, please—_ "

"What are watching, Izuku?"

Izuku yelped, scrambling to turn off the news report just before his mother turned around to see his screen. He smiled nervously and pointed at the paused video. "All Might."

His mother stared at him fondly and chuckled. "Of course you are. I'm going to make some stew tonight, so set the table please."

"Okay, Momma!" Izuku beamed and jumped off his chair to hug his mother before running out of the door.

He didn't notice his mother stare at his screen in confusion, tinted with worry.

* * *

thank you boneofbirdwings for this idea of a story. I didn't see any dadGiran stories on ao3 so it's nice to be able to contribute to that section of the fandom. I apologize for not putting any romantic pairs, romance isn't my strong suit sadly. but I hope that this story would more than make up for this.

I would like to thank invisible vampire so much for editing my story to make it looks much better than it started as.

now for the story. I really tried to make this a one shot, invisiblevampire can attest to that, and somehow I found myself dumping on them this angst fest. I'll admit, I had a bit too much fun writing it and I might write more in this universe at a later date.

for now, enjoy this story ^^

so i decided to start crossposting from ao3 to here since i havent touched the account in a while so i apologize to anyone trying to reach me. This story and the other one I'll post are already complete so I'll post daily until both stories are psted so please read and review on my stories. I would love to hear your thoughts and ideas. Who knows, maybe there will be a debate.

Anyways, welcome to. This story and have fun


	2. Izuku just f'ked up

**CHAPTER 1:** **The Chapter Where Izuku Realized... He Fucked Up **

_You can do it, Izuku. Just walk in, grab something, and leave. Simple. You—_

"Oi, Deku!" The loud voice startled the eight-year-old child out of his frantic thoughts. Wide eyes met narrowed red irises and a small squeak left the aforementioned child.

"K-Kacchan?" Izuku's voice came out in a higher pitch than he intended and he inwardly winced. The spikey blond standing in front of him had never liked his meekness and Izuku worried that this encounter would result in sparks burning his shirt again.

The red eyes looked him over, suspicious yet curious - that was never a good combination. Izuku shrunk back, tugging at the green hairs curling at the back of his head. "Wh-what do you need, Kacchan?"

Kacchan grumbled and folded his arms. "You shitty nerd, what am I hearing about you accepting that stupid bet?"

Izuku blinked, shock pushing aside his wariness. Was his childhood friend… worried about him?

" _No I'm not!_ " Oh no, he had said that out loud. "I just don't want to deal with Auntie's yapping when she finds out you've been murdered by some freak, you damn Deku."

Izuku tugged at his hair a bit harder. "They said that they would include me in the next game if I did it..." He took a deep breath and looked at Kacchan with more confidence then he really felt. "I'm going to prove that I can do it!"

Kacchan snarled before simply turning around with a huff. Sparks erupted from his palms. "You're too weak to even handle a sappy movie. You're a fucking idiot if you think you can do this. I better not hear your damn crying if you chicken out."

The corner of Izuku's mouth twitched at the seemingly cruel reply and he nodded furiously. "I won't chicken out!"

The blond grumbled and walked away, leaving a determined child behind him.

 ** _Later he wondered if anything would have had turned out differently if he had listened to the blond's sad attempt at stopping him…_**

* * *

Izuku glanced from the alley to the piece of paper that had the street's name jotted down to the sign hanging loosely at the corner; it creaked as a soft breeze passed by. He gulped and suddenly wished that he hadn't accepted the bet. The sun had already begun to set and Izuku had a really bad feeling about the dingy alley. The whole area seemed to scream danger from the uneven cobblestones to the ripped garbage bags spilling waste all over the path to the foul stench of something decaying.

He wanted to run away.

But he had promised Kacchan (not that his childhood friend would admit to agreeing) that he would complete the bet. And besides, All Might always faced scary stuff with a smile. He took a deep breath in a pathetic attempt to psych himself up. It was hard to do that, though, when he was shivering because of the dropping temperature. Maybe… maybe it hadn't been the best idea to wear his All Might t-shirt and shorts for this.

The cold finally forced him to move; the want for his warm bed motivating him to finish the bet as quickly as possible.

They had only said to grab something that looked cool and get out of here. Anything... simple, right?

Izuku whimpered when a faraway light flickered on, causing the alley to be bathed in a soft yellow light; the shadows grew sharper as the sun disappeared. Time was running out.

He gathered all the courage he had and stepped into the alley, looking around him in hopes of spotting something that wasn't smelly or moldy.

Izuku trudged all the way down to the end of the alley, examining the old brick wall which was the only color to be seen in this desolate place. He swallowed heavily and turned back to the way he came from, deciding that nothing seemed exciting enough to bring back with him. He was exhausted enough from the constant fear he felt that the bet didn't seem as important as before.

Red shoes moved to dash out of the creepy place when a flash of light caught his attention. reflecting back from a shiny surface. Izuku froze and turned to the source, moving cautiously closer to it; he pushed aside a few garbage bags that were in his way.

It was probably a marble. Cool enough to show his classmates and to prove to them he was strong. He reached out to pick up the marble, only to touch something squishy and slimy instead of the cool surface he was expecting.

Izuku stiffened and raised the item higher to inspect it, revealing it to be a white ball that...

A scream reverberated throughout the previously silent alley.

Izuku threw the now confirmed eye away, realizing that he could see a face between the bags; a horror stricken eyeless face. Izuku felt bile rise up his throat and he released it onto the stained pavement. Tears streamed down his filthy face and he stumbled away from the corpse. Izuku ran through the alley towards the entrance on trembling legs, mind dizzy from the horrifying image he had just witnessed.

 _Oh my god! A dead person! A kid! It was a real person! He had held an eye! Oh god, oh god, he touched an eye! He touched a dead body! He had to tell someone! He had to run away!_

Something about the whole situation kept nagging him though. It sounded awfully familiar.

Unfortunately, it wasn't until he was faced with a shadowed head at the entrance of the side-street that the nagging turned into a horrible realization.

The head wasn't floating. It was hovering in the air, a long rope-like neck connecting it to something out of his sight.

Its face was what had made the connection form in Izuku's mind.

The news had been talking about a neck manipulator killer that targeted children.

Izuku had agreed to go on a bet in the same district the killer was hunting in.

The killer was standing before him!

But he had no other way to run to but the beginning of the alley. He had to somehow get out. Maybe the head _—_

The body joined the head.

 _Why? Why couldn't he just catch a break?_

He was openly crying now. He was going to get killed like that child by the brick wall.

 _He didn't want to die._

 _He didn't want to die._

 _He wanted momma! Momma! Help him! Momma!_

As adrenaline pumped through his throbbing head, Izuku grabbed a bag of garbage and flung it at the body. The freaky killer yelped and flinched away with a high-pitched squeal, giving Izuku the chance to speed by them and escape into the maze of the streets.

Izuku heard footsteps close behind him as he zigzagged down roads, heart in his throat, and legs burning; sweat dripped into his eyes and they burned. His own shoes thudded against the cobblestones as he escaped.

What seemed like an eternity passed before he finally looked back, terrified the killer's head would be still following him, long neck trailing behind it.

He was alone.

Startled, he tripped and face planted into the ground. He cried harder as his newly scraped knees and hands throbbed. Covering his pounding nose and trembling lips he rose to his knees and took a look around him; his panting filled the silence.

His weeping grew to a full out panicked sobbing as he realized that he was lost.

 _He was so stupid! Why did he think that that stupid bet was a good idea? He just wanted to have friends for a change. But he had to screw up everything like the quirkless loser that he was._

Izuku curled up on the floor, hoping that someone would come and save him. Izuku wanted a hero to find him and smile down at him as they guided him home.

He wanted his momma.

A delighted squeal turned his insides to ice and Izuku scrambled to his feet. He snapped his head around to see that the killer's head had appeared around the corner. Wide doll-like orange eyes zeroed in on him and a large grin stretched full lips gleefully.

"Found you, my pretty."

Izuku shrieked and ran away again, praying for anyone to come save him.

* * *

Giran inwardly sighed in annoyance, raising the tip of his gun shaped lighter to the cigarette so he could light the tenth one that evening .

He hated dealing with fools as much as he hated vodka, but business was business. And as a broker for villains he couldn't afford to be picky.

He took a long drag from the cancer stick and gazed beyond his round spectacles at the overly rotund suit fitted man that was rambling about gaining new members and strengthening his trade routes with thugs or something. Giran nodded to make it seem as if he was following the conversation, but otherwise he was lost in his own thoughts.

Giran already knew what he had to do anyways. The slowly fading cartel's boss was a repetitive schmuck. He wasn't as idiotic as he appeared sadly – one leading a cartel could never be truly stupid – but the man could annoy even a saint to death.

Fortunately, the meeting concluded before he could start entertaining the idea of using his lighter for something other than lighting smokes. He bowed to the man and coolly sauntered to the exit, waving a goodbye as the doors closed behind him.

Leaning against the corridor wall, he heaved a deep sigh and watched the smoke fill his sight for a moment before floating calmly away. Giran chuckled and plucked the cigarette out of his mouth, waiting until he was outside to throw the remains to the ground and crush them under his dress shoe.

Absently he fished his phone out of his pocket - rubbing his tongue over the gap his missing tooth left - checking several unanswered messages and some recent news reports.

Nothing special to note. Just a slow, boring night. Giran sighed and turned off the device, switching it out for his cancer box instead as he began to walk down the sidewalk.

He slowed to a stop, though, when a terrified scream echoed before him. Giran's already squinted eyes narrowed further and the lighter gun was taken out and switched to fight mode. Giran started to walk away from the noise, but winched when the sound disappeared only for footsteps to quickly grow in volume. He wondered what kind of a chase was he hearing, but he didn't want to stick around when the chaser closed onto the screamer. He hated the unnecessary carnage.

Quick footsteps joined the panting and Giran watched as a small child appeared from the darkness and collided with his legs. The kid fell to the ground with a yelp before he started to sob in a pathetic show of tears, snot and blood.

He blinked and looked down at the small person at his feet. The child looked to be around seven or eight with a messy mop of green curls hiding a dirty face and a bloody nose. The kid looked scrawny and bruised up; clearly having been running for a while.

From what soon became evident when Giran noticed the orange eyes shining from the inky shadows faraway. The child whimpered and scrambled to hide behind his legs. It would have been a smart move if Giran wasn't who he was.

He demonstrated this by taking a step to the left. The child's breathing picked up and he tried to hid behind his legs again; the kid shook like a leaf. Giran smirked at the amusing sight.

"So you're using me as a shield against someone?" He inquired, gaining the other's attention. Bright green eyes raised to meet his, breath hitching as Giran's smirk turned malicious. "Now isn't that rude of you?"

The child immediately scooted back, eyes turning sharp as they took in their surroundings.

Now he was intrigued.

Despite the mucus and tears staining the innocent face, the eyes spoke of intelligence. Giran himself has had to deal with many different kinds of people and this had led to him becoming quite skilled at reading people.

And from what he saw the kid looked promising.

Perhaps tonight wouldn't be so dull after all.

Giran huffed out a snort and crouched down before the terrified child. "Are you being chased by a killer?"

He was answered with a hesitant nod.

The head was closing on them, their doll eyes turned from Giran then to the child who was trembling.

"You need help?" Giran asked. The child turned to him, wariness replaced by desperate hope. His chuckled, gesturing lazily at the child. "Of course, it would come at a price."

The child's eyes widened and attempted to get up and run away from him, only to be captured by a long slithering neck. The doll like head smiled maliciously at the struggling and shrieking prey.

The child killer, huh. If left alone the kid was guaranteed to die a gruesome death, which would be a shame since the kid could later prove to be useful.

The head reattached itself to the body of the killer who hugged the child possessively. The child clawed at the killer's hold and green eyes snapped to Giran's, begging him for help.

He smirked and brought his phone out. "Want me to save you? Remember that it'll cost ya."

The child nodded frantically, fat teardrops rolling down his cheeks. The killer snarled at Giran, clearly not wanting to surrender their prey.

Unfortunately for them, Giran wasn't deterred.

He only smiled, amused at the display.

"Then it's a deal." Giran took off his glasses.

He felt his quirk take a hold of his face as his gaze turned predatory. Giran knew that his eyes were glowing a faint red now, the effects of his quirk beginning to take place.

The child went slack, eyes widening. On the other hand, the killer's stance faltered, but still held strong with teeth bared at him. Giran sighed and made a show of shaking his phone a bit. "I have Acid Blood on speed dial. Leave the brat alone if you know what's good for you."

A long, tense moment passed, the child's labored breathing piercing the cold night air. Then, the killer slumped and buried his nose into green curls for a long whiff before unraveling around the small body; the killer set him down gently before slithering away in defeat. Giran waited until he could no longer hear the footsteps before turning to address his new slave. "Well—"

The kid shrieked and staggered back, tripping over a stone and falling to his bottom. He trembled horribly as Giran drew closer, the small body curling in on itself. The man crouched before him, quirking a brow up amusingly as he realized that he had forgotten to turn his quirk off. The child was probably close to passing out from fear.

He sighed and dropped his intimidation, putting his glasses back into their original position on his face. Giran took this opportunity to further examine the strange new addition to his life without the risk of the kid fainting..

"So what's your name, kid?"

He received a dark glare, the fear still clouding the small form, but now determination was bubbling inside through it. How curious.

"Alright then, no name. How about a quirk?"

A flinch. "I… I don't…"

"How peculiar. Quirkless?"

A small pause than the slightest of nods. Giran hummed and stood up. That quirklessness could be exploited. No one would take notice of him. No one would notice what should be discarded trash. It was as if that little child was a small gift wrapped up just for him.

He could predict that life was going to be much more interesting now.

With two swift strides he was by the small body and yanking the other up by their shirt collar.

The kid yelped and automatically kicked his legs out before he managed to plant his feet onto the ground so he wouldn't slip out of his shirt. Giran tugged the child forward and lowered himself once again, so bored, blank, red met fearful green. Giran grinned at the expression, relishing in the shudder he received. "From now on, I'll call you Ya'rok. Get used to it since you won't hear anything else."

"Wh-what?" The innocence was back, confusion evident.

"Get used to your new name since you're saying goodbye to your old life. I can't have you running around on your own after all."

Confusion melted into horror and the newly dubbed Ya'rok clawed at his hand. "Let me go home, you creep!"

Giran simply fished out a box of cigarettes. "You agreed to the deal. Now time to pay up."

He lit his cigarette and inhaled the smoke before blowing it into Ya'rok's face. "First lesson, kid – being saved from the brink of death equals a life debt. Now I own your life. You'll leave when I get tired of you, but then you'll have to leave life overall and you don't want that."

Ya'rok let out a wet hiccup which transformed into a yelp when his collar was tugged, forcing him to walk by Giran if he didn't want to be dragged backwards. The child wept, pleading with him to let him go.

After a few minutes, Giran twisted the fabric he held, digging two nails into the soft skin of the other's nape. The kid whimpered, unable to stop crying.

'How annoying," Giran thought, 'I'll have to nip that habit at the bud.'

"Second lesson, kid. Cry only when you want to be underestimated. Now knock it off or I'll give you back to that killer as a present."

That had shut up the child, who now forced himself to stop his sobs by covering his mouth, fist nearly buried into it.

Giran took another puff from his cigarette. "That's better."

They had half an hour before reaching his place; it better be silent.

He had a lot to plan after all.

* * *

please read and review on my stories. I would love to hear your thoughts and ideas. Who knows, maybe there will be a debate.

ENJOY~

(P.S. I don't own bnha or the characters except for my OCS, which I will say when they come into play)


	3. Izuku hates everything

**-Information file A-**  
Alias: Giran  
Age: 40+  
Ethnicity: Half-Japanese, Half-British  
Quirk: Intimidate  
Type: Transformative emitter  
Source: Face. Eyes.  
Details: Once used, intimidates the target. The wider the eyes the bigger the effect. Cannot be turned off other than closing eyes, glasses can help but sunglasses have the best effect.  
Weaknesses: Cannot work on blind. Target has to see subject. Doesn't determine target's reaction.  
Drawbacks: None.  
-  
 **-Information file B-**  
Alias: Ya'rok  
Age: 12  
Ethnicity: Japanese  
Quirk: N/A  
Type: N/A  
Source: N/A  
Details: Quirkless.  
Weaknesses: N/A  
Drawbacks: N/A

* * *

 **CHAPTER 2:** ** The Chapter Where Izuku Hates Everything**

Izuku hated Giran.

No matter how much the man trained him or fed him katsudon after a good meeting, he hated that wretched man.

He took him away from mom. He took away his identity.

"Ya'rok!" The by now familiar gritty voice echoed through the apartment. "Get your analysis stuff ready!"

That meant a new recruit scouting.

Izuku gritted his teeth and slipped off of his bed, stretching his sore limbs. He reached for the black messenger bag he always kept between his bed and desk. He opened it and checked for the usual items.

Notebooks? Check.

Pens and markers? Check.

A switchblade? Check.

A taser? Check.

His emergency phone, charger, and wallet? Check and inside a concealed pocket.

A few more items were kept inside the bag as well, but they weren't as important so Izuku skimmed over them lazily. Once satisfied, he flipped the cover over and set it on the bed.

Izuku quickly put on his dark green suit and polished shoes, grimacing at the offending outfit.

He hated these types of clothing the most.

He tugged at his tie, wrinkling his nose at the crooked tie, and just gave up on it, knowing Giran would take care of it anyways. Instead, he slung the bag strap over his shoulder and exited his bedroom, stepping into the lit living room; the darkness outside the windows hinting at the late hour.

The best meetings were held at under the veil of night after all.

An annoyed huff was heard. "Eight minutes is still too long, brat. You would think that you would have gotten better after several years."

Giran twisted in his seat to peer at the grimacing preteen, smoke pooling around his mouth and body, the cigarette loosely held between his chapped lips. Blank, murky, red eyes narrowed at the tie without even glancing at the rest of his outfit, knowing by now that there was no need to check.

God how Izuku hated him. "You usually call me ten minutes before we leave, I was quick enough."

"Don't be a smartass, greenboy." The bite of the scolding was lessened by the lazy smirk directed his way by the gray haired man.

The man huffed as he pushed himself to his feet, strolling confidently towards the preteen.

Izuku held his breath as the man loomed closer, nose wrinkling in disgust as Giran blew a plume of cigarette smoke into his face as big experienced fingers untied and re-tied the piece of fabric properly. The bud in his mouth was too close for comfort and Izuku knew Giran did it to keep him on guard.

"I can't always be there to fix your problems for you," Giran tugged at the necktie a bit forcefully, causing Izuku to choke and push the man away to loosen the tie, sending a heated glare to the cackling man.

"I don't want you to, bastard. Just let me go home if I'm such a hassle," Izuku grumbled and tucked the tie into the suit jacket; he twitched at the acid yellow color burning his sight.

"A deal is a deal, brat," Giran gave his usual reply, crushing the remains of his smoke into the ashtray. "Besides, you're too valuable to let the aboveground have you."

And that's what basically boiled down to why Izuku was still alive.

In the four years he had lived under the alias of Ya'rok, Giran had learned about his aptitude to analyze anything and everything; especially quirks. He had also learned about Izuku's love for heroes and used that interest to find out more on their strengths and weaknesses.

At the beginning, Izuku kept quiet no matter what Giran had tried. This had given Izuku a sense of victory, feeling that eventually Giran would give up on getting anything from him.

But one night he was introduced to a man called Bringer. The man was one of Giran's old contacts; an old man with a stoic expression and an unfair Quirk.

A quirk called Truth.

That was enough to tip Izuku off that this meeting was going to end horribly.

And it did.

Two fingers touching his temples had caused him to claw at his throat and bite through his lips as everything he knew was spilled out like the tears that cascaded down his face.

After that horrible session, Izuku had locked himself in his room. Once safe behind the locked door, he cried and screamed. He had snapped at the door when Giran tried to open it and this went on for two days before he came down with a fever. The scratches he had inflicted on himself had gotten infected and dehydration had finally consumed him.

Giran had finally forced his way inside when no screaming or crying could be heard, finding Izuku in a delirious state as the fever peaked. He faintly remembered mumbling about numbers and multiplication tables while bashing his head against the pillows, heaving with blood clotting his throat.

The demon's laughter at the sight was hard enough for a sick child, but the gentle hands that cleaned him up and nursed him back to health was the worst punishment he had ever received.

Since then he knew better than to keep quiet. Anything was better than the sensation of words clawing their way out of his throat, air becoming scarce and mind growing frantic with panic. Trauma sunk its claws into his eight year old brain and took residence there, permanently.

Izuku hated himself for showing weakness to his kidnapper. Unfortunately, Giran had seen many of them throughout the years of his captivity. _Surprisingly_ , he had never made fun of Izuku over them. The only reaction he would ever garner from his kidnapper was his knowing smirks.

Izuku shook himself out of his thoughts, moving to follow Giran out of the deserted building they called home-base. They entered the slick black car waiting for them and Izuku settled into the front seat with Giran taking the wheel.

Mom had never allowed him sit in the front seat.

His throat tightened at the memory of kind eyes like any other time he recalled something from his old life.

Izuku bit his lip and glared at his kidnapper when Giran gestured for him to buckle up; he looked away when no reaction came. As the driver started the car, Izuku sighed and slumped in his seat; he folded his arms in a childish sign of rebellion.

Giran ruffled his hair, causing Izuku to scowl, and gracefully wheeled the car out of its parking spot and onto the empty streets; he eventually joined the traffic in the busier streets.

"Who is it this time?" Izuku sunk deeper into the seat and rested his head on the cool window, closing his heavy eyes.

"The head of a newly formed gang. He likes to call himself Yama Kintsuki."

Izuku rolled his eyes. "Something with gold or minerals?"

"Close. He can control flow."

"Flow?" Izuku raised a brow, finally sitting up and looking at Giran. "The flow of small particles or the flow of time?"

"Small particles,dust; whatever you want call it. He works best with gold but he can use other metals and gems."

Izuku hummed and rested his chin on his hand, pondering over the new information. "So he probably knows how to maneuver within small spaces. Not to mention, rich from the amount of the minerals he can obtain with his quirk. If he can mold them over people and trap them in it, it would be really interesting to witness, especially since some human bones are five on the Mohs' scale and gold is only two point five yet it is heavy and malleable. Diamond is also a good option, or moissanite, since they're both hard but moissanite is more rare so that might not be the best choice. Is bort considered a gem by his quirk? But honestly, gold is better since—"

"He's wanted by a client of mine. They want to form an alliance for some heists."

Izuku hated being interrupted. "Do I care about this client?"

Giran's teeth flashed in the passing street lights. "Bull teeth."

A shiver ran up Izuku's spine.

As cringe-worthy as the name was, the woman behind that name was a truly terrifying beast. Her real alias was Minotaur and as her namesake suggested, she looked like one. Her face and mane were those of a red bull; the rest of her was muscular and furry yet she was clearly a female. Sometimes, Izuku wondered if she was actually a bull with a quirk instead of the other way.

She liked violence and was intelligent despite having a hard time controlling her temper.

What could Bull Teeth want from a nimble fingered gang leader?

"Excellent question. Though, not one you should know since it's not your job to know."

Izuku gnawed his lower lip at the slip up, worrying over the long scar left over from his only session with Bringer.

"Stop listening to my ramblings," He said for the umpteenth time in the past four years.

"Can't do that, Ya'rok."

Izuku hated their almost normal banter.

Giran snickered, knowing the effect of his response. "You're there to learn how to convince this person to visit our client despite having no information on them since Bull Teeth is a bitch."

Izuku pushed his cheek into the buckle strap over his shoulder, using it as a cushion. "Whatever…"

Giran didn't reply to that, instead focusing on the road.

Izuku hated him so much.

If only Giran would die.

* * *

please read and review on my stories. I would love to hear your thoughts and ideas. Who knows, maybe there will be a debate.

ENJOY~

OC's list I own:

kintsuki yama (quirk: flow. can control the flow of particles of metals. works best with gold) and bringer (quirk: truth. by touching someone's temples with his fingers can force out all information the victim knows about certain subjects)


	4. Izuku somehow stays alive welp

**CHAPTER 3: The Chapter Where Izuku Somehow Stayed Alive... Welp**

Izuku panted heavily, arms crossed above him so he could take the brunt of the attack that descended on him. His legs were spread and slightly bent to absorb the impact as much as possible, but he still nearly dropped to the floor when the hilt of the axe made contact; pain spiked in his arms and calves. The sharpened edge of the axe was only millimeters from his face.

Izuku had gotten lucky; had his arms caught the axe itself, they would have flown off him.

A growl was heard and the intense weight grew heavier, causing Izuku to slide back from the force of it. He gritted his teeth and wished he was nowhere near the sharp blade or under such a painful attack.

He glared at his attacker.

Minotaur.

"What the fuck was that for?!" He screeched. Pain pounded in his arms and legs as the axe bore down on him, his limbs screaming for a reprieve.

The bull woman sneered, looming over him threateningly. "You useless waste of space! I gave you one job! ONE! JOB!"

"WHICH WOULD HAVE GONE BETTER HAD YOU GIVEN US ANY FUCKING INFORMATION!" Izuku screamed back and risked a glance behind him. Giran was sprawled on the floor, clutching his side as a dark red stain spread over his torn button up shirt.

Izuku almost collapsed at the sudden loss of weight and he whipped his head back to Minotaur, jumping to the side when the weapon was slammed back down. The blade sank into the floor and cracks spread across the surface with rubble flying into the air. Izuku shielded his face, whimpering when a large piece grazed his left arm.

He ducked and rolled, ending up next to Giran who was working on tying a knot over his bleeding wound. "We gotta go, Giran!"

Giran, who had lost his glasses in the first attack, only grunted.

 _Shit, Giran couldn't move._

Izuku frantically examined the meeting room for any possible exits.

"DIE!"

Izuku yelped when the axe went flying towards them. He leaped towards Giran, looped his arms around the other's waist, and yanked them away as the weapon landed exactly where the two of them had been a moment ago.

Izuku wanted to cry but he couldn't sacrifice his sight for even a second.

With the axe was buried deep in the floor, it gave them a few precious seconds to escape.

He forgot to take into account that Minotaur was strong enough to kill with her bare hands, a matter he quickly recalled when she charged at them. Izuku was snatched away from Giran by the throat. He wheezed, legs flailing and fingers scratching at the huge hand gripping his esophagus.

Minotaur growled and brought the preteen closer to her. She bared her fangs viciously and her eyes burned. "I should kill you right now for daring to play with me, but I'm a bit impressed at how you've managed to dodge my attacks."

Izuku could barely hear the praise over the pounding in his ears and the fog taking over his mind. The burning in his throat and lungs faded away into numbness.

Suddenly, the pressure disappeared and cold precious air rushed into his lungs. He heaved and coughed as he struggled to breathe, his body curling in on itself once he was dropped onto the hard floor. Izuku struggled to remain awake, but he still managed to direct his blurry vision towards the huge shadow standing over him.

There was the sound of shifting cloth before a large hand broke through the fog. Izuku's chin was tilted up so he could make eye-contact with piercing, orange eyes.

"You know, you're pretty interesting for a kid. If that waste of air hadn't snatched you first and held onto you like a lifeline, I would have asked you to come work with me already."

"Wh-what?" Izuku winced at the roughness of his throat.

The woman laughed viciously. "But before I could really accept you, you would need to buff up. You're nothing but skin and bones."

Minotaur barked out something then went to her axe and plucked it easily from the ground. Stalking to the entrance she paused at the door and looked over to where Izuku last saw Giran. "Was nice doing business with you, mutt."

The door slammed behind her.

Izuku, for once, was glad that he was not in charge. It seemed that he had used up all his energy, though, because then he was falling to the floor and darkness claimed him.

* * *

Giran cursed the fact that he was always the one in charge; It wasn't like anyone else was competent enough to get the job done, though.

After that wretched Bull Teeth released his charge and said her part, he watched the kid pass out a heartbeat later. Leaving Giran as the only one capable of taking them to their home upstairs.

He spat out the blood pooling in his mouth then slowly dragged himself to Ya'rok's unmoving body. He took a moment to collect himself, adrenaline was dulling the pain, but he knew he didn't have much time before that comfort faded.

Giran grunted and rolled the limp body over so Ya'rok lied on his back. Dark bruises bloomed over his throat and arms; blood stained his left sleeve.

Giran muttered some unsavory words at the sight.

His charge held well against that monster without a quirk accessible to him, but when caught off-guard, the child had nothing to protect himself with.

Damn it, this was their office. Their safe place. Minotaur wasn't supposed to find them here. _No one_ was supposed to find this place. He must have angered her a lot by failing to recruit Yama. He wondered if Yama knew this would happen and did it on purpose.

It didn't matter at the end of the day, but Giran was injured for being the messenger. He hated that. And now he had an unconscious charge to drag up. He would have to call Dr. Tsubasa to patch them up.

 _Crap, crap, crap. He needed a smoke. This hurt like hell!_

Gurgling sounded next to him and Giran looked down to see Ya'rok twitch, turning blue.

Giran swore and pulled the kid to his side. He pumped the kid's stomach a few times until Ya'rok threw up a stream of murky spit and his breathing seemed to have returned to normal. The kid was still blue in the face, though.

Realizing he didn't have much time, Giran fished his phone out of his pocket and dialed the doctor.

He didn't deserve this headache.

* * *

Several hours later found Giran groaning as Dr. Tsubasa stitched up his open wound.

Ya'rok, meanwhile, was lying on Giran's queen sized bed with his head propped up by a pillow and a portable oxygen nasal tube inserted in his nostrils. Cold compresses were placed over the kid's disinfected throat and other discolored marks; the previous bleeding graze had been bandaged. The brat was breathing properly now according to the doctor, obvious by the slight rise and fall of his chest.

"He would have died if I wasn't nearby," Dr. Tsubasa said in his usual no-nonsense tone. Giran grunted and took a drag from his newly lit cigarette.

"Smoke is not good for his condition so you probably should give up on those for the next week." The doctor's expression didn't seem to change behind his glasses and plump face.

"No chance in hell," Giran said, "I would rather die before I gave them up."

"Then send him back. I still hear a lot about him from his mother."

Oh right, Ya'rok's real family. The kid thought he was smart enough to leave Giran in the dark but he had forgotten who he was dealing with. Giran could obtain any kind of information anyone asked for, if paid well enough.

And Ya'rok made it really easy for him. It was simple enough to track down the child's file several days after he had taken the brat under his wing. Finding out that Dr. Tsubasa was his old doctor was only a bonus. Now he had access to all his previous medical files, which had made things painless since he took in Ya'rok.

But the kid didn't need to know any of that.

Giran needed to mold this limitless potential he had stumbled upon into something that he could take advantage of. Already Ya'rok has proved himself to be a great asset in closing deals and collecting information.

What happened today was Ya'rok's first big failure. He was supposed to have been punished accordingly when they got home, but the near death experience probably drilled that lesson home better than anything Giran could have concocted.

He flashed a grin that turned into a grimace as the doctor cleaned his stitches. "Sorry, but no can do. I've stumbled across a goldmine and I'm not letting him go."

Dr. Tsubasa shrugged and packed his belongings. "Not my problem. Just make sure his swelling goes down and change his bandages daily. And if he has any problems with breathing, call me and be sure to check if his airways are open and clean."

"Thanks, Doctor," Giran nodded seriously, waving to the man until the door closed. His hand fell to his lap and he sighed, taking the nub out of his mouth and smothering it in the ashtray. Giran groaned and stood up, moving to sit in the loveseat next to his bed. From this position he had a good view of the door and the bed. He pulled out his gun lighter and set it down on the desk where it would be in reach and in fight mode. Then, he took out a real gun from the holster over his chest and placed it next to the lighter. That way he had two offensive options in case of another attack.

He took a deep breath and leaned back, examining the peacefully sleeping preteen. The freckled face was without its usual scowl and it showed how young the kid was despite the dark bags under closed eyes. Giran grinned as he reached over to ruffle the mop of green curls, blinking when Ya'rok released a pleased sigh and nuzzled the hand.

A moment passed and Giran had to smother his laughter.

The kid was so not cute.

* * *

please read and review on my stories. I would love to hear your thoughts and ideas. Who knows, maybe there will be a debate.

ENJOY~

OC's list I own:

Minotaur (quirk: bull. mutant type that gives her the head of the bull along with super strength and aggravated temper.) 


	5. Izuku Thinks Too Much

**CHAPTER 4: The Chapter Where Izuku Thinks Too Much**

As Izuku woke up, the first thing he became aware of was the pounding in his skull. The preteen groaned and his throat constricted, causing him to cough wetly. He curled in on himself before the feeling of something poking his nostrils finally got him to crack open his eyes and look down. Confused, he tugged out the nasal tube with one hand and massaged his throat with the other.

 _What happened…?_

He stilled as his arms pulsed with a dull ache.

Minotaur.

His eyes widened as everything came rushing back to him. That woman had found their secret base. She had barged in and swung her unnecessarily big axe at Giran and him. Izuku whimpered, screwing his eyes shut and clutched his arms close to his chest. The pounding in his head was still going strong; like that damned thing that nearly cleaved him to two.

His breath hitched and he gagged, boiling acid coming up.

He had nearly died. If Bull Teeth had kept pushing down, he would have collapsed under the weight and the axe would have dismembered him.

Izuku clamped his hands over his mouth as his stomach churned, trying to swallow back the bile and breathe at the same time.

Oh god, oh god, oh god. He could have died to a bull woman with an axe fetish. The same bull that got to Giran with a single slash.

There was so much blood and Giran was so pale. Giran looked _dead._ He… he… He should have been feeling ecstatic about that. He should have been happy. He should have. He should have… but… but he only felt his stomach drop at the sight of the blood and Giran's pained face.

Blood. Blood. Blood. Oh god, there was so much blood.

His fingers dug into his cheeks as his breathing picked up. Izuku screwed his eyes shut and tears came unbidden.

Izuku couldn't do this anymore. He wanted mom. He wanted Kacchan. He wanted his All Might themed room. He wanted—he wanted…

He wanted _home_.

He didn't want to fear that the bastard had died of blood loss. He knew that Giran wouldn't die from something so silly, but there was _so much blood_.

He almost got Giran killed because he screwed up a deal. Izuku hadn't really cared about the deal in the first place and it showed. Yama had rejected the deal because of him and that resulted in Bull Teeth going berserk.

He had almost killed Giran.

Izuku heaved and immediately bent over the bed to empty the contents of his stomach onto the floor.

A loud slam was heard, but it barely registered over his screeching thoughts. Scorching hands grabbed his shoulders, holding him in place as his body shuddered and twitched. Izuku felt cold air against his right shoulder and a burning hand touched his forehead, stopping him from slumping forward.

Izuku was gently pulled back until he made contact with a firm warmness. His eyes fluttered open and Izuku looked up, managing to make out a familiar blob through the fog in his mind. Old hatred wrecked through him, but he couldn't make the effort to get himself out of the other's grip; there was a lump in his throat and unshed tears burned his eyes.

"I hate you," He croaked, voice cracking. "I… Hate you so much…"

"Well, I hate you too." The coarse words sounded exasperated. "But a deal's a deal; I get your brain and in exchange you get protection. Now drink."

A cold glass was held up to his mouth but Izuku pressed his dry lips together in response. He heard a sigh. "I don't want to deal with your crap for the rest of the day. Drink it or I leave you with your vomit."

Izuku's body was desperate for water and he didn't want to continue to smell the sharp rotting scent so he obeyed reluctantly. Izuku continued to stare at the hazy hand holding the cup so he wouldn't glare at Giran and risk choking on water.

Oh, glorious water.

Izuku drank greedily, inhaling deeply when the glass was removed. His sight swirled and Izuku groaned, hands coming up to clutch at his head.

Izuku felt himself being slowly lowered back down to the bed. The burning hand released him, only to be replaced with a damp rag that wiped his face and neck. The chill left behind lulled him into a semi-conscious state. His eyes gratefully slipped shut and the rag stilled for a moment before finishing wiping his forehead and disappearing.

Big fingers brushed back sticky hair and Izuku almost resumed his crying when a familiar memory surfaced to the front of his hazy mind.

 ** _"My strong baby. I love you so much. Sleep well."_ **

**_A warm kiss on his forehead. Delicate but strong fingers combed through his hair expertly. A warm blanket covered him and soft yellow wool dug into his cheek._ **

**_"Love you mama…"_ **

The fingers froze, but Izuku was too far gone to notice, already fast asleep.

* * *

Izuku had tried escaping several times during his first two years of living with Giran.

As expected, none of those previous attempts worked. This meant Izuku had to enact a last ditch - desperate - plan if he wanted a chance.

The haunting memory he had experienced while sick had Izuku avoiding Giran for a whole day after waking up. His time was spent packing his minimal belongings in silence and erasing any traces of them having once been there. It wasn't easy, since he had lived in this building for four years and had taken to carving and drawing all over the apartment's walls as a form of rebellion.

Izuku hated the sense of familiarity each wall gave him.

Unfortunately, Giran had managed to coax Izuku into talking when his half-healed arms gave up, forcing him to ask for help. Izuku's face burned with shame while Giran gave him a shit-eating grin.

"Don't tell me you're actually growing sentimental," Giran smirked at the moody preteen.

Izuku glared at him. "Shut up."

"Don't feel like it."

A thudding noise sounded as the green hair boy tried to kick the cocky man. Sadly, his attempts were thwarted in less than a second.

"You're still too young to try and pull those moves on me." Giran held the offending leg with a raised brow, staring at Izuku amusingly. "Eraserhead would have already broken your leg."

Eraserhead? The Underground hero? Giran has never mentioned that name before.

Huh.

And that was when a much needed last ditch plan took root in his brain.

One that hopefully wouldn't end up with any of them dead.

Izuku hid his face so Giran wouldn't be able to see his wobbly grin.

He was going to beat Giran in his own game.

* * *

One last sweep of the office and the apartment before the two of them were driving away, into the night.

"Where are we going to stay now?" Izuku asked, rubbing ointment onto his healing throat with a wince. He was finally able to speak without pain but bruises still painted his skin yellow and blue and remained tender to the touch.

It wouldn't hinder his plan, though, so he made due.

"Matamata. It's two hours from here."

Izuku stiffened, wondering if Giran could hear the thundering of his heart.

Matamata was a city near Tokyo… which was near Musutafu. It had been a suburb for a long time but was increasing in population due to the Meiida Analysis Academy. It wouldn't be out of place to walk around at night and look for information. But why there?

"It's quiet and our clients would have to think twice before looking for us there."

"I told you to stop listening to my ramblings…" Izuku retorted half-heartedly, gears turning in his head as he tried to recall any underground heroes that patrolled the area. It was near enough to U.A. that Eraserhead may be in the area patrolling. Meadow was also known to monitor cities outside of Tokyo and there would probably be other heroes but he didn't have enough information on them.

It didn't matter who it was, he only had to gain the attention of one of them for his plan to work.

Giran huffed, a lull in his finger tapping. "Never, Ya'rok. For our next meeting, now that you know the risk of failing, I want you to go alone."

Izuku bit his lip to prevent himself from saying something that could get him caught; he couldn't show how ecstatic he was over this new development.

He would be alone. He would be able look for heroes or police. He—

"Of course, you'll be wearing a communication piece. You still need guidance."

Izuku inwardly cursed. But that was still more than he thought he would get. He could still bend this to his favor; there was always a way.

Hopefully.

* * *

please read and review on my stories. I would love to hear your thoughts and ideas. Who knows, maybe there will be a debate.

ENJOY~

OC's list I own:

Kintsuki Yama, bringer and Minotaur


	6. Izuku Gets A Cliche House

**CHAPTER 5: The Chapter Where Izuku Gets The House With The White Picket Fence**

Their new house was a two story cottage with a garden and it was surrounded by a white picket fence.

Izuku stared at the house in confusion, then at Giran, and then back to the house.

Giran groaned, looking like he wanted to die from mortification. "I know, kid! I know! But this would make any future killer think twice. It's the opposite of our usual image, the place was cheap and no questions were asked."

Izuku simply hummed disapprovingly, not wanting to make his kidnapper upset now that he had a plan. He was too tense, anyway, to make a jab at Giran over the cliché looking house.

Anything to escape.

So he simply let Giran place a box in his arms and push him towards the cottage; Izuku stumbled a bit before righting himself and confidentially strolled through the small garden. He stopped at the door and briskly scanned it for any obvious traps. Noting nothing out of the ordinary, he adjusted the box in his arms and pushed the door open, entering his new residence.

The interior seemed like it was something straight out of a magazine, but brighter and with less life. Izuku shivered under the bright lights, already wondering what to do about the excess amount of windows as he placed the box by the shoe shelves. He yawned before turning and exiting the house.

Giran passed by him with a much bigger box, smirking at Izuku when he pouted. "Can't have your noodle arms collapsing again. You need more muscle."

Izuku's eyes narrowed. "Who was the one that managed to handle Bull Teeth for more than ten seconds?"

Giran shrugged. "I'm a business man. You're the muscle."

"No I'm not!"

"Yes you are."

"I am not!"

"Prove it at the next meeting and I'll reconsider it."

"Fine!" Izuku nearly yelled, stomping back into the house. "You can bring everything in by yourself then!"

Giran's cackles were interrupted by the slamming door.

And now Izuku was standing awkwardly in the entrance with no idea where to go. He didn't want to open the door, though, since that meant facing Giran again and he was too annoyed for that.

…Time to find the bedrooms!

The living room was large enough that a dining room table could be placed in it and not interfere with anything else. The kitchen was stationed at the left and then to the right there was a hallway with a bathroom at the left wall and stairs after it.

While climbing those stairs, he saw a small space leading to four different doors; the farthest left was the bathroom, the two middle ones were bedrooms, and the farthest right was an office.

Izuku claimed the one nearest the office immediately, shutting the door behind him. He surveyed the elegant room and a small, disgruntled noise rumbled in his throat. Everything would need to be a darker shade of blue if he still wanted to be able to see tomorrow morning.

But for now, bed.

And damn was it soft. He tossed all the unnecessary pillows and aesthetic covering onto the floor then slipped under the crisp white blanket. Izuku sighed in bliss as his aching limbs sunk into the cool mattress.

If he could, he would stay this way forever. Underground heroes and annoying kidnappers could wait.

And without realizing it, he fell asleep.

* * *

"That damn brat. Sometimes I think he's too cheeky for his own good," Giran grumbled to himself. He huffed heavily as the last box hit the living room's floor. He then picked up a stray towel to wipe the sweat off of his face and neck.

He often took Ya'rok's physical strength for granted which he only started to realize as Ya'rok began to trick Giran into doing the heavy lifting or fighting on his own. At the beginning he kept sending his charge to do everything, but now he was reaping what he sowed.

Damn it, that kid was too valuable and too troublesome; not a good combination.

He really should enforce the old rules again, he couldn't have his charge becoming a flight risk again. Giran had managed to smother the habit two years into their deal, but the kid wasn't in the right mindset yet; allowing it to remain that way would cause all his teaching to go to waste.

Maybe that league manchild would have someone in mind that could help him. In exchange for Giran's services, of course.

For now, he would give the kid a chance to rest. From tomorrow on, Giran was planning on upping the training and the lessons.

He won't let this treasure fall from between his fingers. He would do anything to keep Ya'rok.

* * *

(filler chapter so short) please read and review on my stories. I would love to hear your thoughts and ideas. Who knows, maybe there will be a debate.

ENJOY~

OC's list I own:

Child Killer, Kintsuki Yama, bringer and Minotaur


	7. Izuku meets a Hermit Hero

**CHAPTER 6: The Chapter Where Izuku Meets the Hermit Hero**

Izuku regretted waking up.

He was sore, tired - anything that wasn't good applied to his current state.

"Another round," Giran called out from behind his newspaper. Izuku sent him a deadly glare, hunched over the sink and dripping wet. Giran only smirked, grating on Izuku's already frayed nerves.

Another room in their new 'base' was the training room. It had previously been a purposeless, empty room, but Izuku fixed that by filling the place with gym equipment specially made for younger ages. It had been Izuku's pet project back in their old building and he had to relocate everything to this joke of a house.

Giran had made Izuku strap weights to his wrists and ankles then do his usual workout routine. It had only been an hour, but Izuku was reaching his limits and Giran wasn't letting up.

Despite his growing fatigue, Izuku wiped his face on a towel and threw it at the faucet before returning to his spot in the middle of the room. He slid into his opening stance - legs spread out parallel and hands loosely hanging next to each other - and took a deep breath. Izuku waited for the first command, eyes closed.

Izuku heard the shuffle of paper and immediately ducked when he felt the displacement of air. He then unfolded himself and swiveled in place, eyes opening to see a crumpled cigarette box lying by the weight bar.

"Seriously, Giran?!" Izuku threw his arms up in exasperation only to grab the mug thrown his way. "Stop that!"

"Never, kid. Gotta keep your instincts sharp. They're what saved you against bull teeth."

"Don't remind me…" Izuku grumbled, throwing the mug back to Giran. Said man caught it easily and placed it on the table stationed next to him. Izuku shot him a disgruntled look.

"Get back to work. Attack from three o'clock with a slashing knife."

Izuku dropped into his fighting stance and grabbed an imaginary arm before throwing the body of the fake person onto the floor.

"Ten o'clock, big hand quirk."

Izuku rolled to the side and jumped as if he was to land on the attacker's back and drive him to the floor.

He continued the rest of the session with Giran giving him different scenarios, attacks and quirks. Sometimes there was only one attacker and sometimes there were multiple.

Izuku panted heavily as his limbs screamed from the constant drills. His movements grew sluggish and his reaction time became slower.

Finally, Giran clapped his hands and Izuku dropped to the floor, drenched in sweat and gasping. He couldn't move, the weights now shackling him to the mat, but he needed water desperately. He was parched.

"Stop being such a drama queen," Giran nudged his cheek with a sleek dress shoe. Izuku merely grunted, too exhausted for anything else.

A sigh was heard and soon the relieving sensation of cold air hitting heated skin engulfed him as the weights were unclasped and removed. Izuku weakly rolled to his side, a firm hand yanking at his t-shirt until he sat up.

"Just drink, brat," A bottle was pressed to his lips and Izuku wrapped his sluggish fingers around the cool plastic, drinking messily. Water spilled all over his shirt and face, but Izuku was too tired to care.

He wanted to kill Giran for putting him through this. He wanted to kick him where the sun doesn't shine so badly.

Channel his inner Kacchan and explode that bastard…

His chest tightened and Izuku slumped forward, hiding his face in his clammy hands.

He can't let himself break down. He had a plan now. He had to play nice if he wanted a chance to present itself.

"Alright, get up. Go stretch and then shower. I have your new job prepared."

"When?"

"Tomorrow."

Oh thank god.

* * *

Oh screw god!

A bullet whizzed past him, parting the skin on his cheek like butter, pain erupting along it. Izuku gasped and ducked behind a fallen table, covering his ears as the booming sound pounded in his head.

Giran had led him into the lion's den! Since the moment he had entered the meeting room, he had known this was going to end badly.

First of all, he was supposed to have been meeting only one man but instead he was met with _four extra men_ and the client. Second of all, an opposing villain gang had heard of the meeting _somehow_ (why couldn't people keep their mouths shut?!) and decided to crash the party by flying into the room with motorbikes and handguns.

 _Third of all_ , Izuku was caught in a gunfight for _no reason_.

He was going to **_murder_ ** Giran.

But before he could splatter the bastard's brain everywhere, he needed to hightail it out of here ASAP.

He peeked out from his table and yelped as a broken table leg went flying over him, arms coming up to protect his head. A loud boom quickly followed and something hit the table, causing it to explode and send Izuku flying into the wall. The preteen collapsed to the floor, breath hitching when the communication device in his ear broke off and cut his lobe on its way down.

Giran should already be inside looking for him unless something happened. Fearing the worst, Izuku crawled towards the exit as he tried to ignore the bloodbath, flying debris, and rain of bullets.

They couldn't have killed Giran before that bastard could get to him, right? It hadn't even been that long since he had healed from the injury Bull Teeth gave him.

And how was Izuku supposed to find a pro hero in this mess?

A slap was heard and a strap wrapped itself around his wrist. Izuku screamed as he was hauled to a black clothed chest and was hastily removed from the now burning room.

He immediately registered the freezing night air biting his face and paled in realization.

He was flying!

 _Someone took him again! He was being kidnapped! No, no, no! Not again!_

He struggled and tried to pry the hardened cloth from his wrist, but the arms holding him tightened. "Stop struggling, kid. I'm not going to hurt you."

"Then put me down!" Izuku was panicking now. He pushed away the black shirt and looked down, sight swirling when he saw the fire growing higher. " _PUT ME DOWN THIS INSTANT!_ "

He needed to get to Giran. He needed to find an underground hero. He needed his mom. He needed someone. He needed to _—_

" _—_ Breath with me, kid."

Izuku stilled.

He was on his knees. He was on concrete. He wasn't moving.

He needed to go back _now_.

"Kid, you need to listen to me. You need to breath."

What was he talking about? He _was_ breathing. He was freaking out over obvious things, but not _breathing—_

Oh god, he wasn't breathing.

And suddenly he inhaled sharply and begun to cough violently, tears cascading down. A warm hand rubbed his back and then moved to his hair, pushing it back so Izuku's face was uncovered.

"Look at me, kid. Tell me what happened- it's you."

That caused Izuku to finally focus and he slowly made contact with his new kidnapper's eyes. The man's appearance wasn't much; bloodshot black eyes, long scraggly black hair (was black his theme?), a six o'clock shadow on his face, and ashen gray skin.

"Me?" Izuku finally managed to croak out. "Listen, could you... please return me? My caretaker is probably freaking out."

The bloodshot eyes narrowed. "Are you, or are you not, Izuku Midoriya?"

Izuku froze, eyes growing wide and fearful. He wrenched himself from the man and scrambled backwards.

He hadn't expected himself to react that way to his name being uttered aloud for the first time in four years.

Izuku growled. "How do you know that name?"

The man regarded him for a long time before sighing and sitting down near the edge of - what Izuku realized was - a roof. "So you are him."

"What's it to you? What do you want from me?" Izuku's eyes darted in all directions before zeroing in on the door that most likely led to the stairs. He then stared at the man cautiously, pieces of plans attempting to come together.

Izuku couldn't shake the notion that he knew this man.

"I want to know what happened and return you to your mother."

Black clothing. Black hair. White cloth looped around shoulders. Yellow goggles.

Knew his name. Knew he wasn't supposed to be here.

An unknown hero.

Could it be?

"Eraserhead…?"

The man narrowed his eyes, suddenly on edge. "And how do you know that name?"

Izuku mirrored the other's gaze. "I was kidnapped to become a broker, it's in the job description. Now, are you, or are you not, Eraserhead?"

Black orbs flashed red and then, suddenly, Izuku was yanked from his spot by white wrappings. The preteen struggled as he was pulled closer to the scraggly haired man who now scrutinized him. "I may have jumped the gun a bit. How do I know you're truly Midoriya Izuku? I don't usually find kidnapped kids wandering around at night."

"They do if their kidnapper is testing their abilities," Izuku scowled, "He was _supposed_ to wait for me and rush inside the moment things went sideways. But instead I get kidnapped _again._ By you!"

Izuku glared at the man accusingly. "And now you think I'm _lying_ ? I _am_ Midoriya Izuku and I want to know if you had any reason at all to kidnap me. I've had _enough_ of being used so you better speak up."

The man sighed; his expression showed his growing annoyance for the situation. Izuku continued to glare at him until the hero nodded. "Alright then, Midoriya Izuku. Why don't we put this to the test? Am I, or am I not, Eraserhead?"

Izuku wasn't pleased with the sudden shift in tone. He wanted proper answers for once! But knowing he had to prove himself, Izuku forced himself to appear relaxed and tilted his head.

Time for some analyzing. "Well… for starters, you know my real name. My kidnapper wouldn't know it and no other villains would have any reason to know. Therefore, you're either someone from my past or you're connected to the authorities. Since I don't know you, my old life is out."

"...Go on."

Feeling more confident from the silent approval, Izuku continued. "Secondly, pro heroes are usually flashy and you're not, but you're obviously not a police officer; so underground hero. I know that this district overlaps with Eraserhead and Meadow's patrol area, so that leaves me with two options."

Izuku then gave a cheeky smile. "I know that out of the two, only one of them wears yellow goggles. Besides, Meadow is a woman."

The man seemed to consider Izuku's rambling for a moment before giving him a shit-eating grin. "I would give that deduction only ninety points."

Izuku took a second to process the words and then he gawked. "But I got it right!"

The grin grew darker. "You haven't told me your conclusion. Am I, or am I not, Eraserhead?"

Izuku groaned. "Really?"

"I'm waiting, Midoriya Izuku."

"Don't rub it in! You're Eraserhead, okay? I conclude that you are the underground hero, Eraserhead. Is that good enough?"

There was a long pause before Eraserhead snorted and unraveled the wraps from around Izuku. "I'll give you that, problem child. I am him."

Izuku stared at the limp fabric, eyes wide. "So you believe me now?"

He looked up with shiny eyes.

Eraserhead quirked a brow. "Believe is a strong word. But part of your profile detailed your ability to analyze and your habit to ramble. Coupled with your appearance and your reaction to the name, Midoriya Izuku, I feel that I can 'believe' you."

Izuku felt offended. "You tested me?!"

The underground hero shrugged. "Can never be too careful. Now, I'll be taking you to the police. Don't lag behind."

Izuku suddenly recalled why he had panicked earlier and frantically shook his head. "I can't!"

The preteen received a blank look so he quickly explained himself. "If I don't return soon, my kidnapper will look for me."

"We'll arrest him then."

"It's not that simple," Izuku sighed, "He has a lot of connections in the underworld. He wouldn't give up until I was returned to him. He has put too much effort in me just so I could slip away. But I have a plan!"

"...I'm listening, but make it quick. If I don't like it, I'm taking you to the police without any resistance, understand?"

"Okay- okay." Izuku took a deep breath and began to expound, hope blossoming in his chest. "Giran is planning on letting me take over the deals and transactions. If I can convince him to join me in one of the meetings, you can crash it and arrest him. That way, no one would die and Giran would get arrested. Is that okay?"

Eraserhead gave him a strange look and Izuku frowned. "What?"

"Giran? The underworld broker? Is that your kidnapper?"

Izuku cursed and slapped a hand over his mouth, wincing when he aggravated his cheek wound. Damn his tendency to blurt out all information he knew. Giran had drilled the importance of keeping secrets into him, but one session with Bringer and having only Giran to talk to for four years had loosened his tongue.

Eraserhead took a step towards him and Izuku took one back, suddenly alert. The man folded his arms. "How did a kid like you gain the attention of that man? He's known for being a loner."

Izuku's frown deepened at the phrasing and lowered his hand from his lips. "He… He saved me from the child killer four years ago and took me as payment."

"Just like that?"

Izuku growled. His ear and cheek burned and the crusted blood itched. He needed to have gotten back like yesterday. The pro hero he had so desperately asked for now seemed more like his damnation than his salvation. "Why the hell is that important for you to know? Do you still not 'believe' me? Just tell me if you're going to help me or not."

Eraserhead stared at him for a long time before sighing and standing up. "I get the feeling that you'll escape the police station the moment I take my eyes off you. So here's the deal _—_ "

Izuku tensed up.

" _—_ I'll let you go back if you allow yourself to be monitored and provide me with all the information you have on Giran."

 _Oh, that wasn't so bad._

Izuku nodded. "Deal!" He straightened up and stuck his hand out. The bloodshot eyes regarded him for a moment before the hero grunted and shook Izuku's hand, the bigger one warm and calloused.

The hand of a hero.

Izuku was, actually, holding the hand of a hero. Who despite everything, agreed to help him. He finally allowed himself to experience hope as he climbed onto the man's back and held tightly.

* * *

The fire had attracted a lot of attention, but Izuku managed to avoid looking at the firetruck and the flashing sirens that pierced through all other sounds in favor of locating Giran.

Eraserhead had left him in the hands of a paramedic and Izuku was subjected to an examination.

Fortunately, his cheek and earlobe were the worst of his injuries. The paramedic cleaned and disinfected his light burns and grazes before clearing him.

The moment he was released, he jolted away, trying to find Giran despite the pandmium. He saw gang members and some pedestrians milling around, but no Giran.

"Giran?" He called softly, walking towards where he remembered the car being parked. Izuku could feel the hero's stare burning into him and he looked up to see a silhouette disappear between the rooftops.

 _Alright, he was being followed. Good—_

"Took your time, Ya'rok."

Izuku swiveled in place and slumped in relief when the smoked - but alive - broker limped out of a side street. The preteen took a deep breath and hissed at the man. "Where the fuck were you? You told me that you'd barge in there the _moment_ something went wrong! And that moment was when I walked in!"

"You try going past pest control next time then," Giran grumbled.

"Huh?"

"The guards caught me and then everything exploded with guns and fire, so excuse me for not, 'barging' in."

Izuku bit his lip. He wanted to yell more at Giran, but after his fight with Eraserhead, he was too spent. The gray haired man sighed when he realized Izuku wasn't going to reply and lit a new stick. "I guess it was too early to let you go alone. We'll have lay low for a while now. The league wanted to meet with us next week, anyways."

Bile rose in Izuku's throat. Great, he had barely dodged one bullet and he was already in the path of another one.

The league's base always gave him chills no matter how many times the two of them visited it. The manchild that played leader had always unnerved him, and no amount of bonding over video games would make that feeling go away. Despite wanting to flee, Izuku always went along with the man's whims since Giran had said that the league would be their most important contact. They needed to stay on their good side.

Would Eraserhead be able to follow him there and arrest Giran and the league based on that meeting alone?

He couldn't afford to screw-up this time.

Izuku nodded when he realized he was stalling.

Giran returned the gesture, looking wearier than usual as he patted Izuku on the back. He pulled Izuku away from the newly dubbed crime scene and led the way back home.

They all needed a break.

* * *

please read and review on my stories. I would love to hear your thoughts and ideas. Who knows, maybe there will be a debate.

ENJOY~

OC's list I own:

Child Killer, Kintsuki Yama, bringer and Minotaur


	8. Izuku needs to look around

**CHAPTER 7: The Chapter Where Izuku Has No Situational Awareness**

Giran had left to gather information in preparation for the meeting, leaving Izuku to clean and cook dinner.

Izuku protested a bit to keep up appearances, but allowed Giran to leave without too much of a fight. He received a bemused look in response and he forced himself to look more exhausted than he actually felt.

In the end, Giran simply ruffled his hair and left the house.

Half an hour later - when Izuku was certain the man hadn't made a U-turn - he left the house and looked around for any sign of the underground hero.

The street appeared to be quiet and peaceful, as usual, with the occasional bike passing and some pedestrians.

Dejected, Izuku went back into the house. He grabbed the broom and the dust collector from their place by the door and walked into the living room.

"Do you want roasted chicken or chicken salad?"

Izuku entered battle mode, throwing the dust collector at the intruder then ducked behind the couch, using the broom as an impromptu staff. He peeked from his hiding spot and jumped back when the scraggly man landed on the couch backrest. Izuku stared at the man from his place behind the second couch, broom prepared to slash.

The two exchanged looks before Izuku relaxed and sat on the couch, rubbing his face. "Why? Just why did you feel the need to give me a heart attack?"

Eraserhead smiled, although it seemed more like an evil grin. "Not realizing I was inside before you heard me means that you need to work on your situational awareness."

"Thank you. I feel blessed," Izuku deadpanned.

Eraserhead huffed then hopped back to the floor. He headed to the kitchen, the atmosphere surrounding him serious. "We need to talk."

"So why are you going to the kitchen?"

Black eyes met his. "I'm making dinner."

Izuku blinked slowly at him. The underground hero raised a brow then opened some drawers, acting as if he owned the place. Izuku quickly realized that the man wasn't going to answer him, so he picked up his broom and searched for the dustpan.

After finding it by the kitchen entrance, he started to sweep the floor silently.

The two of them fell into a strangely amicable silence and soon the chicken was put into the oven. Eraserhead grabbed a sponge and cleaned the dishes. Izuku finished with the floor and went to wipe down the table and change the table cloth.

"You seem to care about your kidnapper," A deep voice pierced the comfortable silence.

Izuku stiffened, hand stilling above the wooden surface. "I hate him."

"Could have fooled me. Try again."

Izuku's hand dropped onto the table. "I do hate him! I don't care about him at all! I… don't _want_ to care about him..."

"Meaning?"

Izuku gritted his teeth, crumpling the table cloth. "He kidnapped me. He took me away from momma and Kacchan. I hate him so much it makes me want to puke at times. And yet... and _yet_ for some reason when he got hurt and nearly died, I panicked. I tried to save him and nearly died myself."

And now he was rambling, but the dam had broke - he inhaled sharply.

Acknowledging his feelings probably destroyed all remaining restraint Izuku had.

His voice shook. "He kidnapped me but he took care of me like he was my father. He trained me. He nursed me back to health when I got sick. He fed me. Hell, once I had a terrible nightmare and lashed at him, but he stayed with me until I fell asleep. I can't remember my own dad but sometimes I think that if he had been Giran… I… I wouldn't have objected too much."

Izuku exhaled a bitter laugh. "I must be a lunatic. Who the hell thinks of their kidnapper as their father? I should have left him for dead when Bull Teeth attacked us, but my body moved before I could think. I want to get away from him but I don't want him _dead_."

Izuku clenched his fists, body trembling as he pressed his forehead to the table. "I hate him so much but I… I…"

"He made it difficult for you to hate him," The man approached Izuku, his presence intimidating yet… soft. "You were manipulated into caring for him."

Izuku's eyes snapped wide and he gaped at Eraserhead. "Wh-what? I-I wasn't subjected to any manipulation! Besides, that's not the point!"

Izuku stood up, eyes flaming, and pointed at the man. "You came here so I could give you a way to arrest Giran and get me back home! There was no reason to ask me about my feelings!"

The hero stared at him with something akin to a man facing a wounded animal. "That's true. But I had to make sure you wouldn't back out at the last minute."

Izuku bristled. "I won't. Stop assuming shit about me. You know nothing!"

Black eyes flashed red for a moment. "Then tell me."

Izuku held his ground; he wouldn't be intimidated by this man. He had been through too much to be intimidated by a quirk display.

"Why should I?"

"You want my help?"

Izuku bit his lip. He was still upset but he didn't want to ruin his only chance. The hero was turning out to be more trouble than he was probably worth.

After a tense moment, the man sighed. "How about a information exchange?"

That got Izuku's attention. "Wait, if I tell you stuff about myself, you will too?"

"Yes."

Izuku mulled over it then his shoulders sagged. He gestured to the dining chairs in invitation. Eraserhead nodded and they both sat down.

Izuku fidgeted in place with a scowl. "So… you know my name, but Giran calls me Ya'rok. I'm turning thirteen in July. I got kidnapped exactly four years, three months and twenty days ago by Giran. I'm… quirkless so he trained me in hand-to-hand combat and analysis. He wants me to become a broker as well since i'm his little project. I've got nothing more, so your turn, Eraserhead."

The man nodded. "My real name is Aizawa Shouta. Age twenty-seven. My quirk can temporarily erase other quirks. I teach at Yuuei High School. I came here to take you home."

Izuku felt awe fill him. He had always known that Eraserhead essentially fought quirkless, but to have such an amazing quirk that put them on equal terms? His enemies are forced to fight quirkless, which meant that Eraserhead had the advantage since he wasn't overly reliant on his quirk. And he was a teacher at Yuuei, the school Izuku had always dreamt of attending.

"Close your mouth, problem child."

Izuku snapped his jaw shut and shook his head, returning to earth. "So you'll help me?"

Aizawa hummed, folding his arms. "The police would want Giran behind bars, anyways. Killing two birds with one stone or something. So you got a plan?"

Izuku smiled in relief and began to relay all that he knew about the league - both in location and the villains who made up the group - and then told Aizawa about the meeting next week. He couldn't tell the hero where exactly the gathering would take place but it was most likely at the bar in Tokyo.

Aizawa listened and at the end of the information spillage, he presented Izuku with what appeared to be a charger and a cable. Eraserhead explained to him that the cable was not actually able to charge anything, but when it was connected to the charger, it could be used as a GPS. Another feature was its ability to act as a recorder which would broadcast directly to his computer.

Izuku took the items gingerly, afraid of ruining them. He released a soft sob and smiled with wet eyes at Aizawa. "Thank you, Eraserhead. Thank you so much."

"You're doing most of the work here, problem child," Aizawa said stoically. But a warm hand ruffled Izuku's hair then squeezed his shoulder. "Hang in there just a bit more."

Izuku nodded and wiped his eyes. "You should probably head out now. I don't know how long it'll be before Giran returns."

Aizawa nodded and stood up, returning the chair to its place. He then took a cursory glance around the room before slipping out of the open window and closing it behind him. Izuku watched the hero disappear and relaxed in his seat, laughing deliriously.

His plan worked.

 _Take that, Giran!_

* * *

When Giran returned an hour later, he found Ya'rok dozing off on the couch. The house smelled of seasoned chicken and looked to be in the same condition. Giran scrutinized the place, feeling that something was off despite the welcoming scene.

Giran examined the window and narrowed his eyes. Why was the curtain pulled back despite the window being closed? He glanced at the sleeping preteen then at the oven, not smelling anything burning.

Giran was probably reading too much into it, but Ya'rok knew he hated having the curtains pulled back. The two of them have never liked the idea of people being able to look inside and watch them.

Maybe he had been cleaning the window and forgot?

Ya'rok released a snore and Giran was yanked out from his thoughts. He carded fingers through gray hair and stuck a cigarette in his mouth.

He was growing paranoid. The information he found wasn't helping; the news was bad enough to merit some caution.

Bull Teeth was gathering a team to start a turf war and the League rejected her offer so now she was on a rampage. She had already torn through Giran and Ya'rok's previous base, leaving it a pile of rubble. He shuddered whenever he thought of how close they had come to death. If they had left the house a day later they probably wouldn't be here right now.

He needed to request protection from the League.

* * *

please read and review on my stories. I would love to hear your thoughts and ideas. Who knows, maybe there will be a debate.

ENJOY~

OC's list I own:

Child Killer, Kintsuki Yama, bringer and Minotaur


	9. Izuku gets his wish

**CHAPTER 8: The Chapter Where Izuku Gets His Wish**

"Bull Teeth did _what?!_ " Izuku nearly choked on his eggs; Giran had filled him inon what he had discovered.

Giran took a drag from his cancer stick and nodded. "The bitch hates being insulted in any way, shape, or form so now she's looking for someone to pummel to the ground."

Izuku gulped. "Won't she try barging in on our meeting then? She has shown that she will invade any place that has demeaned her and Bull Teeth probably wouldn't like the reminder of our failure now that the League has rejected her... "

"That's why I had contacted the manchild and requested a change in place."

"To the warehouse?"

Giran nodded. "It's secluded, so no chance of alerting heroes and it's easier to evacuate and disappear from. Also, it's outside of her turf so she wouldn't be able to invade unless she wanted to anger some baddies."

Izuku tapped his chin, shifting a bit in his seat. "But if she wants a turf war, it might be the perfect opportunity to challenge Acid Blood or the league."

Giran snorted. "She would be suicidal to fight him and barge in on our meeting at the same time. She's tempramental, not stupid."

"Yes…" Izuku frowned, adjusting his shirt then stiffened. "But she wouldn't be smart enough to buy his silence, right? Acid Blood is always looking for more stash and she could always catch him by surprise later..."

The cigarette fell from Giran's mouth and Izuku realized what he had just said, causing him to pale.

Crap. This might spell big trouble for them. Bull Teeth had taken over the southern yakuza's cocaine trading roads last year after she had defeated the previous yakuza head and threatened the new leader. The northern yakuza were too powerful for Bull Teeth, but they had decided to leave the other branch to burn; they had still been recovering from their leader's sickness.

And it was known that Acid Blood was an addict. It was his only weakness and the only explanation as to how the yakuza made an alliance with him in the first place.

Giran stood up and rushed to his bedroom to get the phone. "Clean up, Ya'rok! I'm not planning on dying because of that bitch!"

Izuku nodded and waited until he heard the sounds of Giran's cursing and tapping before he moved silently towards his coat. He gently took out the charger and fingered the rigged cable, lowering his voice as he relayed the address to the warehouse. "Please bring backup, I can guarantee that it'll turn messy."

Nothing resembling a reply returned from the cable, which was fine with him. He knew that it was only one way. He could only hope that it reached Aizawa.

He stashed the charger in the inner pocket and returned to the table, sighing at the half eaten breakfast. He wanted to finish the food - feeling guilty over wasted food - but he felt nauseous and light-headed.

He had only wanted to arrest Giran and return home. Why did everything have to become so complicated?

He shook his head, bracing himself on the table as his skull pounded. He had to take deep breaths and wait until the pounding ebbed a bit before he could throw out the food and dump the dishes into the sink.

Think positive. Aizawa would bring backup. Bull Teeth and her gang would be beaten. Giran would get arrested and he would… and he would… he would see momma and Kacchan again.

Burning arose behind his eyes but Izuku forced them back, blinking at the ceiling. He couldn't break down now. This was the last stretch. He had to keep it in until it was all over.

Hold on for another week. Just for another week. Don't betray anything.

 _Anything._

* * *

The next week was a nightmare. Giran had Izuku go through more intense training that left him sore and half-dead. But he couldn't complain; they had to be ready for anything.

Giran and Izuku had tracked down Bull Teeth's activity and discovered the secret meeting she and Acid Blood had. They knew then that the worst outcome had just became real.

When Giran requested another change in locations, Izuku was subjected to Giran screaming curses at the wall after hanging up. So they went to scout out the warehouse one early morning, finding various exit points and planting traps to force back any invaders.

Of course, anything he heard or planned was whispered to the unresponsive transmitter cable later at night. He would then clutch the only link he had to freedom and let silent tears stain his pillow.

 _Just a little bit more…_

On Saturday night, when people normally partied, Izuku and Giran prepared to fight for their lives instead.

They checked their weapons - Giran with his guns and Izuku with his knife and taser - then holstered their bags and exchanged grim looks. The older man made an odd expression and strode to the tense preteen, hand raised.

Too strained from worrying, Izuku took a step back on instinct.

Giran rolled his eyes and stepped forward again, lowering his hand to nestle over Izuku's curls. He then ruffled the untamed mop, giving a rare soft smile.

Izuku looked at him incredulously before closing his eyes and letting himself lean into the touch, relishing in the strangely peaceful moment. He bit his lip when the hand disappeared, flushing in embarrassment when Giran snorted amusingly.

As revenge, he kicked the man's shin as he left the house. The loud swearing somewhat alleviated the fear gnawing Izuku's heart.

However, there was still the gut-wrenching realization that no matter what happened tonight, he wouldn't be returning home with Giran.

Despite the hearty departure, they drove in tense silence to the warehouse. Giran lit his second cigarette and exhaled loudly. The smell of the smoke nearly suffocated Izuku, but he knew that Giran was more anxious than usual; even his sunglasses couldn't stop his quirk from glowing ominously. The preteen fingered his slightly crooked tie, another sign of his kidnapper's stress.

"Ya'rok. Focus."

Izuku startled and turned his attention to his captor. Giran looked at him grimly, eyes burning bright behind shades. But the man himself only took a deep breath and took his cigarette out, throwing it out of the window, then parked the car behind a huge bush.

They sat there for a long time.

A warm hand landed on Izuku's hair but didn't move. The comforting weight helped the preteen relax.

 ** _He manipulated you to care about him._ **

Izuku stiffened and yanked the hand off him. Giran huffed a weary chuckle and exited the car, leaving him to stew in his momentary lapse in judgement.

The preteen couldn't let Giran make him doubt himself. Like Aizawa said, he couldn't let his feelings cloud his resolve. He would arrest Giran today. He would leave a free man.

No matter how terrified he was.

* * *

Izuku stuck to Giran's side as they trekked up the road to the warehouse, examining their surroundings. It didn't seem like any of their traps had been triggered and he could see movement inside the windows.

The league was here.

Izuku gulped and clenched his hand over his bag strap.

This was it.

Showtime.

* * *

A man made out of black mist with yellow cracks in place of eyes greeted them at the door to the meeting room. He invited them in with a flick of the wrist. Giran grinned at him, confidence dialed up and covering all the tension from before, and passed by the mist without a word

Izuku politely bowed his head to the barista before swiftly following Giran.

"You're finally here, Rogues."

Izuku's eye twitched.

The manchild was here.

Giran shrugged and strode to the only unoccupied couch, which fortunately faced the door and was opposite their host, and sat down in a relaxed manner. Izuku shook his head at the simple idiocy their host displayed - never facing away from an exit is one of the most fundamental principles when residing in a room - and sat by the older man.

"So Shigaraki, I'm certain that you've heard of the worrying actions of Minotaur," Giran went straight to business. He lit a cigarette and nodded to the mist man when he passed him a glass of deep gold whiskey.

The manchild, Shigaraki, fumed from his seat, the only seat with missing patches. "This side quest has become too troublesome! She should just shut up and do her useless leveling somewhere else!"

Izuku noticed Giran's eye twitch and hid a nervous giggle, eyes darting around the room.

"Shigaraki Tomura, we should stick to the reason for this meeting," The mist man said.

Shigaraki huffed and glared at Giran, scratching his throat. "I want you to find more party members. We want to make an explosive entrance and take out the big boss, but we don't have enough party members to do a raid."

Giran rested his chin on his interlaced fingers. "That won't be easy unless you have a way of selling your 'raid' to the crowds. If you want a big group to join you, you need a plan and a selling campaign."

Shigaraki growled and then turned to Izuku, who tensed at the sudden attention. "I know you're smarter than this old man. I need party members, now."

Izuku frowned. "How are you even planning on fighting this boss? Who is even the big boss? If he's such a problem to take out with only you and Kurogiri, then why recruit small fry? As Giran said, you need a plan and a motive."

Shigaraki blinked at him and then grinned eerily, cracks appearing on his dry skin. "Oh trust me, we're currently working on creating the perfect anti-All Might weapon. The small fry are there to stall any side-bosses who plan on interfering."

Izuku's eyes widened in horror. "All Might? You're trying to take down All Might?! That's impossible!"

In the blink of an eye, a hand grabbed Izuku's tie and yanked him up for a moment before the fabric disintegrated to dust; Izuku fell back to the couch coughing. Shigaraki growled and swatted the dust away, hovering over Izuku. "Your job isn't to worry about my success. I want you to gather party members and feed us information about All Might. That's your new quest, Rogue."

Izuku glared at the manchild with all the hatred he had, but when Giran suddenly touched his shoulder, he was forced to drop his bloodlust and lean away from the sadistic grin the manchild held.

Izuku felt trapped as their new contract formed under Giran's pen. Where was Aizawa? Did the transmitter fail and the heroes didn't know where to strike? Did Aizawa lie to him?

Things were going too smoothly for the villains and Giran.

A knock was heard.

No traps were triggered.

All of the room's inhabitants froze and stared at the door in disbelief.

Izuku's heart soared with hope.

"Delivery!" A familiar voice echoed. Izuku's heart skipped as he jumped on Giran and forced him to the ground as an explosion rattled the room.

Izuku groaned, clutching his ears as they rang, turning to the door.

"INTRUDERS!" Shigaraki screeched as he caught a piece of rubble that flew to his face, leaving dust in its wake.

Kurogiri swirled, preparing to escape the warehouse when another explosion rocked the building and a spray of liquid washed over the four inhabitants. The mist man collapsed and dissipated, a neck brace falling on top of fallen clothing. Shigaraki coughed and grabbed the silvery brace, looking around them with eyes filled with rage and panic.

Izuku was able to shield Giran so none of the liquid reached the man and hacked as the foul tasting substance filled his mouth - it tasted like rotten eggs and his head was growing foggy.

Giran grabbed Izuku's arm and pulled him behind the, miraculously, intact couch. Giran wiped the liquid from his face and tapped his cheeks. "Can you hear me, Ya'rok? I need you to vomit everything you swallowed."

Izuku nodded and stuck his fingers down his throat until he bent over and emptied his stomach. It didn't help the smell, but it stopped the fogginess from growing worse. Izuku leaned onto Giran, coughing and looking up in fear as he tried blinking to clear his head.

"Wha-what happened?"

Giran peeked from the couch and ducked a moment later, covering Izuku's head with his arms as a third explosion went off. The couch they hid behind flew over them and hit a wall. Giran cursed and pulled Izuku as far away from the door as possible.

Izuku stared dazed at the entrance, heart stopping when he saw a huge silhouette appear in the smoke.

A huge axe was thrown and Izuku screamed as Giran shoved him back, the huge weapon going an inch into the stone wall - where they stood a second ago - and creating cracks across the surface.

A loud thump reverberated throughout the room, followed by maniacal laughter. "You are powerless now, League! Now I get to kill both interfering pests at the same time!"

"Bull Teeth…" Giran growled, tearing off his glasses and letting his quirk take over his face. Izuku shuddered, not used to seeing it so potent - bloodlust rolled off his kidnapper.

Bull teeth saw him and her laughter dropped; her eyes became as hard as steel. "You should have known better than to set traps for me. I could smell them from a mile away. Now that Acid Blood has given me free reign and the suppressants, you have nothing to protect yourself with."

She had them. And Izuku knew that if the heroes didn't arrive in the next minute, they were dead.

Shigaraki shrieked and threw what was left of the table at Bull Teeth, who sidestepped the attack and grinned darkly, the bull-like face distorting. The manchild stomped his feet. "Get out of here, side quest! I don't like you and I didn't ask for you!"

The bull woman charged forward and Shigaraki hopped away, coughing and stumbling over himself. The woman bared her teeth and backhanded the manchild, a loud crack sounding when his body made contact with the wall.

Izuku and Giran rushed to Shigaraki and Izuku turned the limp body over, watching a huge gash on the pale forehead, pump blood freely.

"Shit." Izuku clumsily tore a piece of Shigaraki's ratty shirt and pressed it to the gash. Giran stood and placed himself between Izuku and Bull Teeth, quirk on display and a piece of broken wood in hand.

Izuku swallowed acidic remains and clutched his head with his free hand, head pounding - he was going to pass out if it didn't stop.

A yell cut through the pounding. Izuku watched as Giran fell back, barely avoiding a swipe.

Bull teeth roared furiously then suddenly froze.

Izuku held his breath as the monster of a woman lowered her hand and touched her neck, pulling out a huge dart canister. She stared at it dumbly before looking behind her and crashed to the floor.

Giran jumped to the right, evading the fallen woman, and shouted in rage when branches wrapped around his middle, restraining his arms.

 _Branches? That's… that's Kamui's—_

"Secure all villains and make sure the child is brought to the paramedics!" Someone shouted and Izuku exhaled a sob, slapping his hand over his mouth as his lower lip wobbled.

 _They were here! The heroes had come to save him!_

Giran stared at Izuku with an aghast expression. "Ya'rok… you…"

Izuku took a deep breath, lowered his hand and smiled through his tears. "I won this time, Giran. I'm going home."

Giran yelled and a branch came up, covering his mouth. His shouting became muffled and soon a familiar shadow blocked Giran from his view.

"Who is this, problem child?" Aizawa snapped his fingers in front of Izuku, getting the preteen's attention. Izuku blinked and looked down - his hand was still pressing the fabric to Shigaraki's bleeding wound.

Izuku swallowed and gently shook his head in an attempt to clear it. "It-it's Shigaraki. The one I told you we were meeting. Bull Teeth sprayed something on us that cancelled quirks and it had something in it to knock us out."

The fogginess abruptly spread and Izuku swayed in place, heart in his throat and heat rising in the back of his neck.

Big hands grasped him by the shoulders and bloodshot eyes held his gaze. "Midoriya, you swallowed some of it?"

Izuku barely managed a nod. "I… I threw it up… Giran made me… I protected him…"

Aizawa sighed and gently moved Izuku away from the prone body of the villain. The hero hooked one arm under his knees and one behind his shoulders, picking him up easily. "Of course you did, problem child…"

Izuku - cheek against the black jacket and listening to the strong heartbeat underneath - weakly shrugged. It was getting harder to focus. His head was killing him.

"YA'ROK!"

 _Giran? It sounded like… it sounded like he was in pain…_

"Gir...ran?"

The hand covering his shoulder squeezed. "Don't worry about him anymore. I'm taking you home."

 _Oh, okay_ , Izuku thought before the world disappeared behind a heavy fog.

He was finally going home.

At long last.

* * *

please read and review on my stories. I would love to hear your thoughts and ideas. Who knows, maybe there will be a debate.

ENJOY~

OC's list I own:

Child Killer, Kintsuki Yama, bringer and Minotaur


	10. Izuku gets his wish, take two

**CHAPTER 9: I Apologize. THIS is The Chapter Where Izuku Gets His Wish**

He faintly remembered bits and pieces of his journey to the hospital. Flashes of blaring lights, heroes tying up people, strangers taking him away from Aizawa, and loading him onto a stretcher. He recalled feeling fear and Aizawa's comforting presence immediately appearing by his side.

But somewhere between the stretcher and the ambulance he must have lost consciousness since he couldn't remember entering this white-washed room. Izuku frowned at the painfully blank ceiling.

The blanket covered him up to his chest but he wanted to curl into a ball and pull it over his head to escape the harsh light. The IV connected to to his left arm was too uncomfortable to move, though. On top of that, his body was too heavy to maneuver and he was having a hard time staying awake.

 _Where was Aizawa? Was he truly in a hospital and not at a lab or something? Was he really saved and not just dreaming?_

A shifting noise came from beyond the curtain and a shadow appeared. Izuku tensed as he watched a hand reach for the fabric and pull it away.

Long shaggy black hair. Bloodshot black eyes. A bored look.

Aizawa.

Izuku relaxed in his bed.

"You should be sleeping."

Izuku trained a half-hearted glare at his savior. "It's too white," His voice cracked, throat too dry.

Aizawa snorted and sat on a discarded chair then gave Izuku's clenched hand a squeeze. "Soon."

Izuku nodded then took a deep breath, suddenly noticing the nose tube and going crosseyed trying to examine it - he quickly gave up on it and asked for water. The man reached for a glass and Izuku held great pleasure in being able to hold the cup on his own. He greedily drank and breathed deeply for a few moments before turning to Aizawa, wetting his lips. "Giran... Shigaraki and Kurogiri... Bull Teeth… what happened to them?"

Aizawa frowned. "Your kidnapper is in custody. Bull Teeth… you probably mean Minotaur - she is heading to Tartarus and her underlings, who were outside, are already in prison. Shigaraki and Kurogiri, the mist guy, managed to escape. We hadn't thought too much of the neck brace Shigaraki was holding, which was our mistake. He created a portal under them and they disappeared before we realized what happened."

Izuku blinked at him. "Oh."

"I apologize for wasting the chance you gave us," Aizawa lowered his head. Izuku frantically shook his head and hissed at the slight ache. The underground hero huffed and ruffled Izuku's hair. "It was our fault. But it's not your concern now."

Izuku bit his lip, the reality slowly sinking in. Giran was arrested. Bull Teeth was in custody and wouldn't ever touch him or his kidnapper again - Shigaraki didn't matter now.

"So… what now?" Izuku asked and swallowed heavily.

"Tomorrow you'll go through a psychiatric evaluation. Later, you'll have to give your statement to the police about the past four years and last night, but that is not a pressing matter. For now, your mother is on her way so you'll get time with her before anything happens."

Izuku clenched the blanket. He couldn't find anything to say. He wanted to thank Aizawa for everything. He wanted to cry and ask for his mother to come faster. He was dying to see her after four years and knowing that she was close made him yearn for her even more.

Yet… yet he wanted to see Giran as well. To see with his own eyes that his kidnapper was behind bars ( _that Giran was safe_ ) and couldn't keep him from his momma ever again.

He didn't… he didn't know how to act right now. He had finally achieved his long time dream, so he sort of felt lost.

"Midoriya."

Izuku looked up, finding soft eyes staring back. Aizawa gestured to the opening between the curtains and Izuku followed the hand, eyes landing on a plump woman with green hair in a half ponytail, clad in a pink sweater and long green skirt.

Painfully familiar green eyes widened and the woman slowly approached the bed. Aizawa moved away to let her take the seat.

She seemed afraid to reach out at first, disbelief evident in her gaze. Izuku felt his eyes burn as he stared at the woman, hands coming up in an unspoken request.

Her breath hitched. "Izuku… Is it really you?"

Izuku nodded, throat constricting and letting a soft whimper out. The woman teared up and flew into his arms, avoiding the IV as she held him tightly. Izuku buried his face into the green hair and inhaled the hauntingly familiar smell of cooking and comfort.

She smelled like home. Like safety.

"Momma…" He whispered and shook, tears escaping as he held onto her tightly. He was terrified that if he let go of her, she would disappear.

"My baby. Oh, my baby, Izuku. My baby, my baby," She kept muttering before she pulled back and cupped his face. He melted into the warm and soft hands that wiped his tears and smiled weakly at her. She stared at him in awe and with love, her own tears staining her face. "You have grown so much, my baby. I'm so sorry I wasn't there for you. I'm so sorry I didn't save you."

"Momma…" Izuku's lip wobbled and he broke down, burying his face in her neck and clinging to her as she kissed his hair and rubbed his back, muttering his name over and over again.

His real name.

Izuku.

He was Izuku again.

He could worry about Giran or the tests later. He could worry about going back to school or his future later.

He could worry about everything else much, much later.

Because for now?

"I'm home, momma…"

That's all that mattered.

 **Fin.**

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thank you everyone who read through all the journey. I hope that you had enjoyed the ride. I surely did.  
I apologize for the sarcastic titles and summary despite the heavier story, I just couldn't stop myself *giggle* I hope you enjoyed yourselves regardless.

please do tell me what you thought of it and if you would like more stories happening in this universe? 

please read and review on my stories. I would love to hear your thoughts and ideas. Who knows, maybe there will be a debate.

ENJOY~

OC's list I own:

Child Killer, Kintsuki Yama, bringer and Minotaur


	11. Sneak peak

I hope you enjoyed he story! at this point of time i'm writing aizawa's pov of this story. here's a sneakpeak of the first chapter.

I really enjoyed writing aizawa, especially much younger and much more... alive XDXD

anyways, so after aizawa's pov, i'll do the sequel and try to write on the side inko's and katsuki's pov. there isn't much to write for those two so it shouldn't be too much trouble.

enjoy~~! and don't forget to comment and tell me what you think ^^

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Aizawa groaned when he woke up, swatting at a weight on his chest. A short 'mrrow' was heard but nothing else happened. Aizawa made a displeased noise and pushed at what was crushing his chest.

The weight hissed but finally moved and pounced off of him. Aizawa exhaled and yawned, rubbing his eyes and pushing himself to a seating position, taking a cursory look of his surroundings.

Then the damned weight curled back onto his legs. Aizawa glared at the offending feline purring cheekily at him. An offending, overly fluffy with tiger stripes on the legs feline.

Incessant beast.

But with no excuse to go back to sleep, the man pushed the light-colored cat away and climbed down from the bed. The feline meowed grumpily and jumped out of the room.

Thank god for small mercies, Aizawa thought miserably, already missing the cat. Luckily, the Kurilian Bobtail returned to demand food while he brushed his long, knotted hair.

Aizawa sighed, but quickly set down a bowl of fish for the cat.

Now that the troublemaker was busy, he grabbed boxers and pants from the pile of clean clothing - he never bothered folding his clothes. He was going to use them anyways, so what was the point? - and pulled them on while hopping towards the couch and snatching his long sleeved shirt and holster. In one swift motion, he pulled on his shirt and tied the holster over the side of his chest.

He then strode towards the safe under the bookshelf and took out of it his disassembled gun. He quickly assembled it and slipped into the holster and secured it.

He grabbed his phone and sent a quick text to Hizashi about groceries, then headed towards the door _—_

Aizawa halted. He felt something missing. What did he forget… oh, right. He grumbled and went to get the cat.

Only to find the area empty. Aizawa cursed under his breath and went to locate the annoying cat.

The Kurilian Bobtail was curled under the bed on top of a pile made from his utility belt and scarf. Aizawa prayed for strength and went to the kitchen.

Soon, the smell of another opened tuna can lured the damned cat out and gave Aizawa the opportunity to get his belongings. He clipped the belt close and let the scarf settle over his shoulders.

He checked on his cat and was met with annoyed mewls. Aizawa sighed and crouched before the cat, giving the feline a hard stare.

"Don't ruin my house, little rascal. If you'll be nice, I'll bring a slice of fresh fish just for you."

The cat stared at him, unimpressed.

Aizawa shrugged and stood up. "Have a good night, Bob."

He received a mewl as a farewell.

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please read and review on my stories. I would love to hear your thoughts and ideas. Who knows, maybe there will be a debate.

ENJOY~

OC's list I own:

Child Killer, Kintsuki Yama, bringer and Minotaur


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